Isabelle’s world narrowed to the press of Cassian’s lips against hers. He kissed her softly, like a tentative exploration that sent a shiver racing down her spine.
She froze for a heartbeat, her hands still braced on his chest.
This was the first time Cassian had kissed her like this; it felt raw and consuming, his lips parting hers with a slow, deliberate pressure that coaxed her mouth open.
The sensation pooled low in her belly, a familiar heat that made her thighs clench instinctively around his hips.
He didn’t rush; he let the kiss build like a gathering storm, his other arm, the one supposed to be in a brace, banding around her waist to keep her pinned against him.
Wasn’t everything moving too fast?
What if everything blows up in her face?
The satin of her nightgown whispered against his pyjamas with each subtle shift, the fabric growing warmer where their bodies aligned, her core brushing the hard ridge of his cock through the thin barriers.
God, what was this feeling? Like she was melting from the inside out, like she needed more but was scared of shattering.
Cassian growled low in his throat—a guttural sound that vibrated through her chest—and the kiss turned wild, his tongue plunged deeper, claiming her mouth with a ferocity that stole her breath.
Isabelle’s fingers dug into his shoulders, nails biting through silk as she kissed him back, clumsy at first but growing bolder, her tongue tangling with his in a messy, desperate dance.
His free hand roamed now, palm skimming her side, bunching the satin higher until his fingers grazed the bare skin of her thigh through the high slit.
Finally, Cassian broke away, his lips hovering a breath from hers, both of them heaving for air.
His blue eyes, dark and stormy, locked onto hers, pupils blown wide with unrestrained want.
His praise washed over her like warm liquor, her cheeks burning, a fresh gush of arousal flooding her panties at the raw approval in his tone.
The satin clung to her curves, the fabric translucent enough in the lamplight to hint at the dark peaks of her nipples, hard and begging.
Isabelle froze, her eyes widening at the contact. Cassian felt the shift and paused.
"No," she cut him off, voice ragged. "It’s just... M—my breasts are small... not full enough." She stuttered, lowering her gaze at the intensity in his eyes.
"You think your breasts are small? This size?" He cupped her twin peaks again, kneading them with enough pressure.
"These tits", he murmured, voice thick with reverence, squeezing gently at first, then firmer, rolling the heavy mounds in his hands like he owned them.
Isabelle’s head fell back, exposing the line of her throat, her breath coming in shallow sobs as he lavished attention on her breasts.
Cool air kissed her flushed flesh, her nipples tightening further under his stare, the room’s faint lavender scent from the bedsheets mixing with the earthy tang of her own growing wetness.
The wet heat enveloped her, the pull of his lips sending rhythmic tugs straight to her core, her pussy clenching emptily around nothing.
"I’m only getting started," Cassian whispered against her skin, his mouth hot and demanding, every suck pulling her apart.